


Unwanted Interference

by MelyndaR



Series: Carvis Week trilogy [2]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Carvis Week, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 09:09:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6747823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelyndaR/pseuds/MelyndaR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*My submission for the second day of Carvis Week!* In which Howard Stark plays matchmaker between two uncertain partners, and being an undercover couple for an evening only serves to make the situation seem even more confusing than before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts used in this chapter: Howard’s mansion and isolation

“Hey, pal, are you alright?”

The unusual question from Howard Stark froze Edwin in his tracks as he served the genius his breakfast. He turned his head slowly towards the man, replying, “Yes, of course.”

“Really? Because you’ve seemed… _off_ ever since the movie premiere – and I haven’t seen Peg around since then either, for that matter.” He smirked, asking teasingly, “You two didn’t have some sort of domestic, did you?”

“Of course not,” Edwin said, barely refraining from snorting at the idea. _Although it_ was _dangerously close to the truth of the matter, in some ways._

Mr. Stark looked and sounded a bit more serious as he asked, “How about a good old-fashioned falling-out then?”

“I’m… not sure,” Edwin admitted, allowing himself to straighten as he resigned himself to the fact that this was going to become an actual conversation. “We… talked on the way home that evening, and some things were said that I believe may have… frightened her. That, or she didn’t mean what she said in the first place, and she doesn’t know how to rectify the situation.”

_Which would be a truly **terrible** turn of events… but he could learn to live with it, couldn’t he, as long as Miss Carter didn’t try to disappear from his life entirely?_

“Do you know how to fix it?”

“I… don’t know. I’m not sure.”

“You know, I’m no psychologist, but I think that actually _talking_ to her might be a good place to start. Have you two talked _at all_ in the past week?”

“We have not,” Edwin replied, letting the slightest edge creep into his voice to tell his employer that he was edging towards what qualified as “none of his business.” “I don’t want to… spook her if she isn’t ready to talk to me again.”

Mr. Stark looked at him skeptically, but he seemed content to leave well enough alone for once… at least for the time being. “Just don’t… isolate yourself from one another, okay?”

“I shall certainly do my best not to,” Edwin promised a little dryly… but, at the same time, he wasn’t sure how he could stop it if Miss Carter wasn’t willing to reach out to him as well.

Thankfully, Mr. Stark ate the rest of his breakfast in thoughtful silence. Given that thoughtfulness, Edwin had expected his employer to disappear into the lab right after his breakfast, to work on whatever project had overtaken his mind for the time being, and maybe leave Edwin to a quiet day of housework. That was not what happened at all. Instead, Mr. Stark disappeared into his office proper – the room he used for actual _business_ purposes – and Edwin heard him making a few phone calls – about a gala that was taking place in a couple of days, from what he could overhear. Eventually, Mr. Stark emerged and _then_ went down to the lab.

A couple of hours later, the doorbell rang, and – upon answering it – Edwin was handed an envelope by a young man who claimed to be an assistant of one of Mr. Stark’s colleagues, a Dr. Rousseau.

As soon as the boy disappeared, Mr. Stark called from the lab doorway, “Jarvis?”

“Yes, sir?” Edwin asked, looking at the envelope in his hands with mild curiosity.

“Are those the tickets?”

“’Tickets’, sir?”

“To Dr. Rousseau’s science exhibition-dance… thing.”

And this was said as if Edwin was supposed to know what he was talking about. Yet long years of translating what Ana had dismissively called “science speak” led Edwin to ask, “Do you mean the good doctor’s _fundraiser auction_?”

“Yes, that.”

“Yes, I believe they are… but… didn’t you receive your two tickets in the mail last week? Actually, I’m quite sure you did. Who are these for? Should I catch his assistant, tell him he’s made a mistake?”

“No!” Mr. Stark emerged from the lab then, snatching the envelope from Edwin’s hands as if he was afraid he might rip them to pieces. “It’s no mistake; I worked to get these things!”

“Very well,” Edwin replied slowly before asking, “For whom are these tickets intended, if I may ask?”

Mr. Stark smirked up at him with a glint in his eyes – the look of a man with a plan that was likely as ridiculous as the man it had come from. “Peg, for one – and you for another. Now, to the car, Jarvis; we’ve got to deliver one of these to our girl.”

“Sir,” he objected lightly, feeling more alarmed than he let on. “Whatever you’re planning, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Mr. Stark was already walking towards the front door, and Edwin felt he had no choice but to follow. “The only thing I’m planning on doing is forcing you two to be in the same room together again so you can talk out whatever’s got you two messed up. Relax, Jarvis; it’ll be _fine_.”

* * *

_“In the morning, you’re going to regret everything that you just said.”_

That had been Mr. Jarvis’s first prediction when Peggy had admitted to loving him… _while she was mostly drunk, but still._ That had been a week ago, and she had instantly proven him _absolutely right._

It was a relief, in a way, to have finally said it, to have finally fully come to the realization herself, but she was terrified of how it might affect the dynamic they had already established so well – the relationship that already meant so much to her as it was. So, for the week following Howard’s movie premiere, in order to avoid the proposed “problem,” she avoided Mr. Jarvis himself.

_It was funny how soon she’d gotten used to having him around again – how long a week without him seemed._

And yet she didn’t know what else to do. She was running from the situation, from her _emotions_ , and she knew it – but she didn’t know how to _stop_ doing it.

Until Howard and Mr. Jarvis showed up _at her front door_.

The first thing out of the mouth of either man was Mr. Jarvis saying quickly while they were still on the stoop, “I had nothing to do with this, I assure you.”

Howard smiled back at his butler, looking far too pleased with himself for whatever was coming next to be anything that resembled _good._ “Oh, Jarvis – you don’t even know the half of it.”

Peggy didn’t even know what was going on yet, but Howard kept smirking smugly, Mr. Jarvis looked mildly terrified, and all she could think was, _This is going to be interesting at least, whatever it is._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt used in this chapter: undercover mission

“Aren’t you going to invite us in, Peg?” Howard asked with his usual roguish grin.

“I’m very tempted not to; Angie and I only came home for our lunch breaks. It’s a miracle you caught either of us at all.”

“Well,” Angie spoke up from behind Peggy, a grin on her face and in her voice. “ _I’ll_ invite you in – and then I’ll leave for work, because Peggy somehow manages to get a longer lunch break than I do.”

Peggy rolled her eyes as Howard smiled past her to Angie, stepping into the house with Mr. Jarvis behind him. “Why thank you, my darling Angelina Maria Martinelli!”

He was using some ridiculous, overstated Italian accent and smiling at Angie like he’d found his next conquest – not for the first time. Peggy snapped out of sheer habit, “ _No_.”

Both Angie and Howard rolled their eyes at her, but Howard dialed it down, so Peggy was happy.

“Anyway,” Angie said dismissively, “I really do have to go. See you later, Peg. Goodbye, Mr. Stark, Mr. Fancy.”

Peggy nodded, giving her a small smile, and Edwin did the same, chuckling under his breath at the nickname that seemed to be sticking around. Howard called after the waitress, “I’ve told you to call me Howard!”

Angie smiled over her shoulder at him, waving with just her fingers as she told the trio, “You kids have fun now!”

_The same thing she’d told Peggy and Mr. Jarvis a week ago._

Peggy firmly shoved the thought away and closed the door after Angie, ordering Howard sternly, “You leave her alone.”

“Why? She doesn’t seem to mind it – and she’s nice!”

“Yes, _she is_.”

Howard pretended to pout at the pointed comment, but then he took an envelope out of his jacket pocket and asked her, “Can we talk? I need a favor.”

“It’ll have to be quick;” she said, not even pausing at the inquiry. “I do have to leave soon as well.”

“Fair enough,” Howard shrugged. “A potential threat is going to show up at Dr. David Rousseau’s gala.”

“It’s a fundraiser auction,” Mr. Jarvis corrected, speaking up for only the second time.

Howard looked at him sideways, apparently not appreciating the interruption, as he said, “There will be dancing, drinks, and bowties; that’s all I need to know. _Anyway,_ this thing takes place in a couple of days, and I got word that there’s this guy going to be there who has a _very bad_ grudge against me. So I need your help.”

“What sort of help?” Peggy asked.

At the same time, Mr. Jarvis said, “You never told me you would be in danger!”

This time Howard outright ignored the butler as he handed Peggy the envelope. She opened it, slipping out two tickets for… Her eyebrows drew together as she read, “Mr. and Mrs. James Stanton…” She looked up at Howard, saying slowly, “I don’t understand.”

“You’re going in undercover, Peg, you and Jarvis.”

“What?” Peggy and Mr. Jarvis burst out at the same time. Peggy added, “I don’t think it’s necessary to go _under cover,_ Howard, let alone as a _couple_.”

“Of course it is. And, look, I’m sorry about the names I came up with, but the guy put me on the spot and I said the first thing that came to mind. And it’s just for a night – one night. Please.” Howard shot them both a pitiful look, adding, “For me?”

Almost in perfect tandem, Peggy and Mr. Jarvis looked at one another and sighed. The explanation that Howard had just given her – this proposed “potential threat” – sounded strange at best; at worst, Howard knew something of what had happened after the movie premiere, and had just lied through his teeth to try and shove her and Mr. Jarvis towards one another. All the same, she knew she would do it if Mr. Jarvis also agreed. Like Howard had said; it _was_ just for one evening.

“Fine,” she said on a sigh, and Mr. Jarvis nodded his agreement as well as she added, “But I’m going to need more information about this _threat_ that we’re supposed to be keeping an eye out for.”

Surprisingly, Howard was able to answer all of her questions – _though she still couldn’t tell if he was lying at all_ – and once she knew everything she wanted to, Howard asked, “Do you want Jarvis to drive you into work? It’s not far from my place.”

“Oh, no,” Peggy said hurriedly. She wasn’t sure if she would know how to be alone in an enclosed space like a car with Mr. Jarvis… not in light of what had happened between them the last time they’d spoken.

Then Mr. Jarvis added softly, “It would be no trouble at all, Miss Carter. In fact… I would like to talk to you – perhaps get some things ironed out about our under-cover personas.”

 _Now_ that _explanation was definitely a cover-up for an entirely different motive… but if he was willing to talk to her about it, then… why would she refuse him? Didn’t she want to, at the very least, salvage what they’d had before last week?_

“In that case,” she replied with a smile. “I would be happy to let you drive me – if you’re sure it’s no trouble.”

The butler’s face expression was entirely sincere, but she got the sense he was trying to convey something more too as he replied, “For you, never.”

She found herself blushing – _of all the unheard of things!_ – as she went to get her jacket and hat.

In short order, they had dropped Howard off at his mansion, and the duo was left alone in the car as Mr. Jarvis drove Peggy to the telephone company. Their easy camaraderie was stiffer somehow – charged with unspoken words and uncertain emotions – just as Peggy had been afraid it would be.

Mr. Jarvis said softly, almost as soon as they were out of Howard’s driveway, “I thought we were going to talk about this again.”

“We are talking about it, apparently,” she replied stiffly. “And as _I_ recall the evening, _you_ were the one who said it would need to be discussed again.”

“And yet you were the one who kis—” He cut himself off, tension in the lines around his eyes and mouth as he glanced in the rearview mirror and then back to the road.

Peggy sucked in a deep breath, murmuring, “Thank you for stopping me when you did.”

He let out a dry, huffing laugh through his nose, thinking something that he wasn’t going to tell her before he said, “Certainly. Do you think I’m the type of man who would do otherwise when a lady doesn’t have total control of her faculties?”

“Of course not!” she replied, horrified at the very idea.

The very faint edge slipped away from his words as he said simply, “We don’t have much time, so… please… just tell me honestly: if you even remember what you said… did you mean any of it?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts used in this chapter: undercover mission, Howard’s mansion, and people finding out (I played around with the last prompt a little, I know, as Edwin is the one to find some things out about his relationship with Peggy, but I thought it worked well enough)

 For a second, Peggy was honestly floored into silence, internally screaming. _Yes! Yes, she remembered all of it! And, yes,_ of course _she had meant every last bit of it!_

But all that she could make come out of her mouth was a much quieter, more sedate – nervous, even – “I wasn’t blackout drunk; I remember it all perfectly well.” She swallowed, adding, “And… yes, I meant it.”

She couldn’t quite bring herself to look at him – _she desperately missed her sunglasses right now, actually, what with their ability to disguise her eyes, and oftentimes what she was thinking_ – but there was no missing the very audible, very _relieved_ sigh that burst out of him. “Good,” he replied just as faintly. “Because I did too.”

Her own relief hit her like a train. They were still on shakier ground than they’d ever been before – _though it feels better than it did three minutes ago_ – and she still didn’t know where they were supposed to go from here, but _he loved her too_.

 _That_ had _to mean something, didn’t it?_

“And now,” she pointed out lightly. “Howard has deemed us a married couple for an evening.”

“So he has.”

“Do you think he did that on purpose for some reason?” she asked curiously. Mostly it was just an innocent question – she doesn’t put anything past Howard, ever, anyway – but she had to wonder at the timing of it.

“I didn’t tell him anything, but… I don’t know,” Mr. Jarvis admitted. “However, I certainly intend to find out.”

* * *

The moment Edwin was back in Mr. Stark’s mansion, he made it known, making a point to uncharacteristically slam the front door as he entered. “Mr. Stark?”

“Lab!” the genius called back.

 _Of course._ Edwin trotted down to the lab, stopping at the doorway to declare – because it was more of a declaration than a question, really – “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“What did I do?”

Edwin rolled his eyes, stalking over to the bench where the other man was working. He had to resist the urge to rip his papers away from him as he said, “Setting up Miss Carter and I to go undercover as if we were married.”

Though Mr. Stark’s eyes were filled with amused incredulity, brown finally met blue as the genius asked, “Did Peggy get just as upset about this?”

Edwin blinked. “No. But you didn’t… _have a conversation_ with Miss Carter this morning either. You must admit that the timing makes you look very… meddlesome.”

Mr. Stark snorted, looking back down to his papers as he replied, “When have I not been ‘meddlesome,’ Jarvis?”

“When you’re in the mood to not care about anything at all.”

He wasn’t usually this frank with his employer, he knew, but he truly felt that if he was right about how this had worked out, then Mr. Stark had very much overstepped his bounds.

“And have you ever known me to have an… in between mood? The world – the people I care about – get one or the other, right?”

Edwin said nothing, giving neither a confirmation nor a denial, and the silence stretched between the two men for a minute before Mr. Stark huffed – at being made to take a break from his work, apparently – as he set aside his papers and gave his butler his full attention. “Look, Jarvis, there are things in this world that you and Peg might actually be the _last_ ones to find out about, alright?”

“Meaning what, exactly?”

“ _Meaning_ ,” Howard rolled his eyes. “That, yes, I did it on purpose, because somebody needed to do something to kick you two in the right direction. The movie premiere was a slyer attempt at _maybe_ doing that… but probably not really. I didn’t _expect_ anything to happen then. But today I saw an opportunity, and I decided it was time to slap you two upside the head a little. So, yes, Jarvis, you’re going to be married for _one night undercover._ ”

Edwin let his eyes slowly drift closed, concentrating on not doing or saying something he would regret. Really, he should be used to Mr. Stark’s ridiculousness, but this was just at a level that he wasn’t quite sure he’d seen before, if that was possible. “What makes you think,” he asked in a strained voice. “That you have the right to do _any_ of that?”

Mr. Stark didn’t answer immediately, and when Edwin eventually opened his eyes, he was being stared at, the genius’s eyes thoughtful and a little startled as he asked, “Are you against this because of the whole ‘married’ thing? Because of, you know, Ana and-“

“ _No_. None of this has been about Ana. It’s about Miss Carter, and myself, and our _privacy_.”

And just like that, Mr. Stark’s shameless smile was back, wide and proud as he said, “Good. That I can deal with. But just… one question: what exactly do you think is ’private’ between you and Peg?”

“Our conversations, for one, and our interactions in general; our relationship does not need anyone to meddle in it!”

“Fine,” Mr. Stark shrugged. “You can keep all those things private.  But let me tell you something that you’ve _never_ been good at keeping private between you and Peg: your _feelings_ for one another. It’s written all over your faces that you care for one another, and it always has been. She’s _the_ natural choice to… you could be the best thing that ever happened to one another, if you’re not already, and I just want to see you two figure that out.”

Edwin stared at him, hard, for a long moment before he said, feeling like he was talking to a brick wall, “That’s not your choice to make.”

Mr. Stark sighed, holding up his hands in a sort of sarcastic surrender. “All right, I get it. Really, I’m asking for _one_ night here of just _thinking_ about the idea, but if we get back to the house afterwards, and you can honestly tell me that I’m wrong, and you don’t feel the way I – and more people than just me, for that matter – think you two do… then I’ll leave it alone. I promise.”

Again, the butler stared for a long moment, his expression betraying very little before he nodded jerkily and turned on a dime to leave the lab. He was halfway across the house before he muttered pessimistically under his breath, “Don’t make promises you _won’t_ keep.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt used in this chapter: undercover mission

Given the impending undercover work that she was going to be doing with Mr. Jarvis, Peggy found herself back over at Howard’s mansion a couple of times in the following forty-eight hours, and she couldn’t help but notice that something felt a little _off_ between Mr. Jarvis and Howard. That relationship, however, was one that she hadn’t bothered – _or perhaps “dared”_ – to probe before, and she refrained now, too.

Mr. Jarvis still seemed a little… _stiff_ towards Howard as the three of them met before the fundraising auction, but that was fine, Peggy decided, given that she and Mr. Jarvis weren’t likely to be _with_ Howard much that evening. Howard had convinced the groundskeeper to drive him to the auction, so that the “Stantons” might show up alone – less suspicious, that way, at least in theory.

This whole thing felt slapdash at best, and Peggy didn’t like it, but it was only for an evening, for a friend, and off of the official SSR books, so it was what it was, and it was going to be fine.

On the way to the auction, Peggy asked her “husband” for the evening, “Did you ask Howard whether or not the ‘Mr. and Mrs.’ tickets were done on purpose.”

“I did.”

Mr. Jarvis’s tone tightened, and a muscle near his eye jumped – a sure sign he was angry at the thought – so Peggy let that line of questioning go, already fairly certain she knew what the answer had been.

_But why would Howard do such a thing? Surely… had he already seen what she and Mr. Jarvis had only recently confessed to?_

“I hope you won’t let it bother you,” Mr. Jarvis said, drawing her away from her thoughts. “I have Mr. Stark’s word, in a way, that he’s going to leave the idea alone after this evening.”

Peggy nodded. “It doesn’t bother me… but if he’s been giving you grief about the idea of… us… somehow, you could’ve told me; I could’ve had a chat with him.”

“Oh, we had a chat about it ourselves.”

“Ah, I see.” Judging once again by the mere tone of his voice, she wisely let the subject drop.

* * *

When they arrived at the auction, Edwin found himself toying with his wedding ring during the moment it take for him to go around the front of the car to open the passenger door  for his “wife” – _she would let him do it this evening; why not take advantage of it?_ For all of nine days – from the time he’d arrived home after the movie premiere until this evening – he hadn’t worn his wedding ring. After professing his love to another woman, it had simply seemed like the right move, the right time, to stop wearing the symbol of his now-long-over marriage to Ana. But tonight the ring was back on his finger as a simple ornament to his cover – Miss Carter had found a very cheap engagement ring and wedding band at a pawn shop for the same purpose – and already he found himself sliding back into the old nervous habit of toying with it.

_Why was he nervous? It was only Miss Carter – after all, he was fairly certain that his employer was in no actual danger in the first place, the little—_

“James, sweetheart?”

The wispy, American voice at his elbow – not one he recognized – drew him sharply back to the present. _Ah, yes, Miss Carter and her accents, but good **lord** , why had she chosen **that one** for the evening?  _She had gotten out of the car and settled her hand in the crook of his elbow like it belonged there – _did it? It had certainly seemed to nine days ago –_ as she waited for him to shut the car door so they could go inside.

So he shut the door, and pressed the lightest of kisses to her temple for effect. “So sorry, Wendy, my love. Shall we?”

And they did. They went in, they danced, they drank, they talked, they even bid on a couple of things – making sure to lose both times. At all times, one of them kept an eye on Mr. Stark, but, truthfully, as the evening progressed, Edwin found himself paying less and less attention to the entire reason they were here, and instead he zeroed in on his wife. _Fake wife, remember that,_ he reminded himself harshly more than once throughout the evening.

But she was truly gorgeous, laughing brightly – though not as loudly as he knew she could – and dancing superbly, and this time they only sipped champagne throughout the evening, both silently determined to stay perfectly sober.

Yet, in some small corner of his mind that he had long kept very firmly closed off, Edwin still found himself… just… _wishing_.

_Wasn’t that exactly what Mr. Stark wanted to happen, though? What he had already suspected **would** happen?_

_Oh no, the bloody genius was **right** , wasn’t he?!_

Nevertheless, once they’d returned to Mr. Stark’s mansion for the evening, and Miss Carter had driven off towards her own home, when Mr. Stark looked at him, raised his eyebrows, and asked, “How do you feel, Jarvis?” the butler had his lie ready.

The question didn’t necessarily make sense; the genius had drunk far more than he ought’ve at the auction, but Edwin understood what he was being asked, and replied dryly, “You were wrong, and you said you would leave it alone now, so kindly do so.”

Mr. Stark only frowned severely at him as Edwin turned away and went to deposit his wedding ring in his bedroom. The evening was over, so there was no need for him to continue to wear it.

* * *

Peggy had noticed the first time she’d seen Mr. Jarvis without his wedding ring – the day he and Howard had dropped off the tickets. They had said they loved one another at a time when he was still wearing it; the next time she’d seen him, he hadn’t been. _Did it mean something, or was she reading too far into this? He had said it was time for him to move on; it could have nothing at all to do with her._

She would’ve preferred to think that it had _everything_ to do with her.

She didn’t know _what_ to think, let alone what to _do_ with these emotions and ideas that she was suddenly finding herself considering after they had been denied to her for so long.

When Angie walked into Peggy’s bedroom after the agent had returned home, she found Peggy on her back on the bed, a pillow over her face. “So…” the waitress asked carefully. “How did it go?”

“Wonderfully.”

“Great!” She grinned, dropping onto the side of Peggy’s bed to ask, “How was Mr. Fancy at playing Prince Charming?”

Peggy tossed the pillow away from her, confusion lacing her tone as she replied, “Perfect, really.”

“Then why do you look like somebody ran over your cat?”

“I don’t!”

“You do. What’s up?”

Peggy sighed, asking as an avoidance of Angie’s question, really, “Angie, do you ever have a situation where you wish you could just… go home and talk to your mother about something – let her help you make sense of the world again?”

Angie cocked her head to the side, asking simply, “Then… why don’t you? If that’s what you’re _really_ thinking, English; I don’t think I’ve heard of you taking a trip home since I met you.”

“You may be right,” Peggy said, slow and thoughtful as she sat up. _After all, putting some distance between herself and Mr. Jarvis might not be such a bad idea after the way she’d so thoroughly enjoyed the little signs of affection they’d been showing each other all evening as “spouses.”_ She nodded firmly, a smile growing on her face at the impromptu plan. “I might just do that.”


End file.
